I Wouldn't Wanna Be Like You
by Monsignor Gabriel
Summary: A collection of interweaving accounts detailing several employees at Paradise Kiss studios and their departures from said place.


_**I Wouldn't Want to Be Like You…**_

**A Paradise Kiss short story about the many ways of not fitting in and what power can do to even the best human being on Earth**

The strut said it all, the walk, the talk, and the way he laughed. This man that walked the halls was different, all right. He got both cold looks from the models and otaku/writers and designers whilst getting congratulations from the conservative executives. He didn't really mind either of them. It was his job. He just wanted to live and write, play and write, and love and write. Oh, and had he mentioned the _write_ part?

One thing that people noticed about him, beside the sincere smile on his face, that cheery disposition, that hop and scotch in his walk, that pen and that notebook and that new magazine cover under one arm and a CD player under the other, and his headphones (mind you, not _ear_phones, but _head_phones, the big, weird-looking ones) buzzing happily that American rock music, was what he was wearing. The monster walked in, every day, different from everyone at the Paradise Kiss studio. He wore that suit jacket, all sleek and polished, that tie all snuggly under it… ooh, it just gave everyone, all dressed in those really fancy and expensive clothes, from mink coats to the crazy but glamorous new idea master Koizumi had come up with, the deepest of chills. But the true horror began when he took off that jacket… Oh… my… God… those… _**suspenders! **_Blegh, it made every designer want to vomit!

But still, he wore them. This sore thumb was named Takeshi Banozi-Saikazu. He was a journalist, fashion producer and multi-fielded writer. His job in the Paradise Kiss community was to make sure everybody knew about the new design Koizumi had recently made: send it to magazines, send it to newspapers, to digests, tabloids, pornography stores, concession stand, etcetera, etcetera, and etcetera. Nowadays, with Paradise Kiss taking off, years after Koizumi had begun his line with the help of top model Yukari Hayasaka, Takeshi had been exponentially busy than ever before. However, Koizumi took much pride in his publicity, be it bad or good, so he made sure he had gotten the best advertiser around… and no one was better than Takeshi. Some, however, are surprised Koizumi would keep him around.

Heck, Koizumi probably forgot he existed, that monstrosity Takeshi. Even though Takeshi was promoted and raised pay regularly (he gets about $50,000 every _week_), he and Koizumi rarely interacted. Whether the other was disgusted by the other, or if they met privately, no one was sure.

Besides, Takeshi never abused his power within the corporation, so no scandal could ever materialize in the gossip that traveled around the studio. He rarely attended meetings, rarely talked with anyone except Kayushi, a male model friend of his from the military school baseball team, and rarely did much of anything: he just came and worked his hours (about 8) and scurried along to the apartment he rented from an ex-girlfriend; she herself is hysterical, since he barely talks or even argues with her about past woes (barely notices he's even living in a near-cupboard at $5k every month).

He wasn't exactly attractive, so the models strayed from his path. The otaku thought he was a "prep" and "jock", so they also strayed. The executives only gave him the pat on the back, nothing more. He didn't even talk to his mooching co-workers (he did all of the work whilst they gathered around the water cooler). He didn't even mind he was doing much of the work: he just kept that smile of his, that cheery-happy-dandy attitude infecting the air around him. It was as if the guy was not completely in his body, his feet on the ground and his head in the clouds.

You'll be surprised when you hear this: that Koizumi's top model, Yukari, actually stopped by his cubicle! She had been hearing about his horrible suspenders when she was tasked by a dating-late assistant to deliver a freshly pumped-out ad to him, personally, as he had requested. The model had just completed work up at her studio, so she was not dreaded, but rather curious with the meeting of this strange, silly man.

Yukari had heard of his silliness for quite a long time, and the thought of the man had strayed in and out of her brain the past couple of months. He reminded her of those nerdy boys that were neither otaku nor popular enough. She had heard of his horrible fashion sense, his odd smile and emotional position and of his blandness in general: as she stepped in front of the cubicle, she realized not all gossip is crap. The man was bland and normal, indeed: the black hair, the glasses, the eyes, all standard and boring. However, she noticed at how hard they were. He was disciplined, educated, and smarter than anybody she had ever seen.

However, he looked stern, and, again, he gave off an aura of boredom that was infectious.

Takeshi took awhile, maybe a couple of seconds, but he did eventually notice the exquisitely-dressed and currently-voluptuous Yukari. "Man" he said, "they usually send an angel or a demon to wise men and fools, respectively… but I must not be either one, because I have no idea what the hell _you're _supposed to be." Yukari laughed after Takeshi had barked a single chuckle. "I'm neither" Yukari said, deciding to humor him, "I am a goddess, and men _always_ bow to me". He stood, and said "Bodhisattva, Bodhisattva, I am gonna sell my house in town, because I want to see the shining of all of Japan…" Yukari laughed and gave a little pirouette as Takeshi bowed and sat down again, "… bask in the light of your sun, and behold the sparkle of your brightest china!" He's a complete nerd, she thought, but a funny one. "So, what seems to be the problem, I've lost too much of my faith?" he said; Yukari recognized his tone as serious, so she set herself straight and handed the ad over. "Kari is dating _again_?" he said after hearing his assistant's excuse. He sighed, and said "she never gives up…" under his voice.

Takeshi thanked the goddess, and she sent herself on her way. However, she remembered something that the odd, probably anti-social man would like: the party that Koizumi was holding in his penthouse, now that he had one, in order to get in line with the top brass of Japanese fashion. "Tell me, do you plan on going to the party George is throwing tonight?" she asked, "I now have a reason to" he said, a smile on his face…

"I just hope they don't play _"Dude Looks like a Lady"_ when I'm there, or else I'm going to embarrass myself, Aerosmith _and_ the company" he said as Yukari walked away. She began to giggle uncontrollably as she walked to the elevator she had recently left.

That infectious house beat filled the wide, roomy, bar-like penthouse that belonged to Koizumi. The drink was nearly fruity, with all of the fruits squeezed into them in order to stem the gallons of hard liquor's bitter taste. Every now and then, a waitress passed in order to keep the guests well-fed. Cigarette ash filled the trays in the distant corners of the room. If people were not sitting next to them, comfortable, then they were either fetching another drink, or were dancing according to their own space or in the dance floor so conveniently placed in the largest and widest area of the penthouse.

The host himself, Mr. Koizumi, was chatting up highly famous designers like himself, Yukari under his arm and to his right side. Yukari had not really remembered Takeshi, now that she was having such fun at the party, with a slightly better man next to her. However, when she noticed a slick business suit walk to the bar for a drink, a light bulb exploded within her brain. "Be right back" she told Koizumi.

She was slightly flabbergasted at Takeshi's insistence in his odd conservatism. However, he did make it look handsome and appropriate: he looked a lot taller in Italian shoes, and the suit created an amazing slimming effect. However, when she approached to his side, she still noticed that he was much shorter than she was. She giggled internally at this before greeting him.

"You look marvelous once more" he said, sake shot glass in his hand already, "Thank you, you make the whole office chimp look work yourself!" she said, taking a tall goblet and swallowing the sake in it in one gulp, smiling, her face turning slightly red and her head taking a slight dip to her left side. "So, can you hold your liquor after a dance?" he said, sipping his shot and placing it on the bar, "I'll try if you can" she said, grabbing him by the hand and hauling him to the dance floor.

A slight nag told her to dump him and go back to Koizumi, but she let it slide this time; she would introduce him to Koizumi as a simple office chimp, one that accounted for 40 of company profits, although Koizumi wasn't the type to be interested in economics or pay-day matters.

His stepping and swaying was odd, as if he liked dancing, but he did not know how to dance, or had not danced in a long time. His out-of-place aura still prevailed, with his sharp, condensed look amongst the mad and delusional and jungle extensions and bangs on the clothes of everyone else. He was a black and beige boat in a sea of orange and red and blue and purple and green and deepness and blackness and darkness. And God could sink that little ship, shamed, alone, rejected, alienated, different… but yet he didn't. Neither did dearest Bodhisattva.

"So, what other work do you do besides professional office chimp?" she said, "Well, I plan on starting a publishing company, so I could get some writers together and publish some books" he said, chuckling, "It's funny how writing for shallow fashion magazines could breed creativity". "Creativity is a flower" Yukari said, "It blooms wherever there is water, be it from the purest spring or run-off from the nearest roof-top. Either way, it will grow and bloom, no matter the consequences". "That's pretty clever for a fashion model" he said, his eyes wide but a cool smile under his upper lip, "I wasn't always a fashion model. Before this, I was a teenager, confused, fraught, but with better knowledge on how to let my emotions and frustrations run wild." "Weird, I just studied and then moved into a dorm with an unruly Okinawa roomy…" Yukari laughed. She was enjoying herself, away from Koizumi… wow… that is … until someone touched her on the small of the back. She turned. There, his hair blue like always, was Koizumi.

"Yukari, come join me with the executives in the back!" he said, as tipper as a flower, the alcohol obviously beating him to a drunken dizzy, "They… oh, who's your little stiff… bend… friend, sooorry…" and he giggled, pointing at Takeshi. "Oh, this is a good friend of mine, Takeshi; he's our manager of the advertising team" Yukari said, her arm around Takeshi's back, grabbing at his left arm. Takeshi smiled and bowed slightly. However, Koizumi simply stood there with a dazed face. Yukari then added "the one you pay fifty big ones ever week?" and Koizumi cried "Oh! Ah, yes, marvelous work you do!" he said, his glass tipping over, spilling a large amount of sake on the floor. He beckoned a couple of designers over, introduced Takeshi, and soon they were complimenting him on his work. "I love how much attention you pay to the texture of the clothing Master Koizumi does!" they said, "Such… _fresh_ detail, I must say!" They all continued similarly for a while. They soon left, and Koizumi, Yukari, and Takeshi himself were left to chatter.

"What, you trying to get me promoted?" he told Yukari and Koizumi, who both laughed. "oh, no, darling" Koizumi said, "I intend on keeping you in your place… like the little slave you've turned out to be." Koizumi giggled. Yukari, however, saw Takeshi blink and give an odd half-smile: he was slightly offended. "Nah, see, I don't… I don't see why I pay you so much if, if all you dooo all day long it fuck my _boy_friends!" Koizumi said, laughing heartily. The alcohol was beating him senseless, overpowering and taking him. Yukari stepped in on this comment: "Uh, Koizumi, don't you think you should go entertain the executives…?" she said. "Shut up, bitch, there… is a, a _man _talking here" Koizumi slurred, his hand raising up in the air threateningly. Takeshi grabbed it, pulling it down. "Hey, I think you've had too much to drink, Mr. Koizumi" Takeshi said. "No, I think _you've_ had too much to dru… drink!" Koizumi was getting anxious and angry. He raised his hand to Takeshi as well, and then threatened him with a closed fist.

Takeshi kept saying "relax", his hands keeping the fist away, whilst Koizumi continued to threaten him. The whole relax thing was only making him more angry. His attendees were noticing his drunken behavior as his voice turned to screaming. "I _pay _all of you _monkeys_!" he cried, pointing at several people with an empty goblet, "I'm not that little gay boy whose designs nobody likes anymore! NO! I'm Koi-fucking-zumi, and _I'm _the boss now, you… rich fucking mummies!" "Hey, what's your problem, brother?" Takeshi said, grabbing Koizumi by the arm. "I DON'T GOT A PROBLEM!" Koizumi roared, yanking his arm away from Takeshi and smashing his goblet on the floor. Several people gasped. The whole room was now silent. The music had been turned down so that the argument could be heard.

"But you know _**what?" **_Koizumi said acidly, poking Takeshi in the ribs, "I wanna know what the heck you's doing with my girl, office chimp". "If you'll excuse us, we were dancing" Takeshi said simply.

"Bull_shit_!" Koizumi snapped, "You's going to take her away from me, huh?! Well, fuck you, you poor bastard! She's mine, and nobody else is gonna take her away form me, much less the perverted and dirty likes of you!" "I'm not trying to steal her, _sir_" Takeshi said, his voice stern now, "**You're full of crap**, poor boy!" "Hey, screw you, buddy!" "NAH, FUCK YOU!! YOU KNOW WHAT, I BET YOU'RE JUST _JEALOUS! _YOU WANNA BE JUST LIKE ME!! WITH MY WOMAN, MY TALENT AND MY WEALTH!! WITH ALL OF YOUR BLAND BULLSHIT CLOTHES AND YOUR CHEAP ASS SUIT THAT YOU WORE TO _MY_ FUCKING PARTY IN _MY _FUCKING PENTHOUSE!! I BET YOU SPEND THE MONEY I PAY YOU ON PROSTITUTES AND SHIT LIKE THAT!! INSTEAD OF USING IT ON THE GOOD LIFE: YACHTS, MANSIONS, MORE FUCKING MONEY, FAME, AND **POWER**!!"

For awhile, it looked as if Takeshi was going to push Koizumi away from him, since Koizumi was only a couple of inches away of blowing hot steam up his employee's nose. His drunken slur ended, he waited, steaming, breathing hard, waiting for Takeshi's response. He backed up after awhile, a cocky grin on his face. He thought Takeshi was silenced forever. He thought Takeshi was flabbergasted and afraid. "…I wouldn't want to be like _you_" Takeshi said, as simply as he said before

Everyone felt it along with Koizumi and Yukari. Their hearts jumped up into their throats. Yukari smiled, whilst everyone else scowled, not believing the words they had heard. Takeshi said goodbye to Yukari, thanked Koizumi for the lovely evening, and left as conspicuous as he had entered. The silence lasted for an entire minute while everyone busied themselves with their drinks, chatter and cigarettes.

Takeshi was fired the next day. He applied for a job with the _New Yorker _magazine in the U.S.A, and was sent for by an article writer much like himself. He regularly writes to Yukari. His latest one, which has a P.S addressed to Koizumi, read "I _still _wouldn't want to be like you".

_**THE END**_


End file.
